Deus Ex Machina
by rightxhere
Summary: She stirred the plastic stirstick in circular motion, eyes fixated on the swirl of the coffee granules and cream. BoscoFaith, AU
1. Prologue

**Title: **Deus Ex Machina 1/?  
**Authors: **Demelza & Jill  
**Disclaimer: **Third Watch and its characters do not belong to us, they belong to the people at NBC, WB, and all its other owners. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission. _Without Prejudice.  
_**Characters: **Bosco, Faith, Whole Cast  
**Genre:** AU, Angst, Romance  
**Rating: **O15  
**Warnings: **Character death, some violence, sexual references, offensive language.  
**Summary: **She stirred the plastic stirstick in circular motion, eyes fixated on the swirl of the coffee granules and cream.  
**Dedication:** This is being written for our very dear friend, Amy (BoscoRox), whom we doth love very, very much :)

**\/**

_**Prologue**_

She stirred the plastic stirstick in circular motion, eyes fixated on the swirl of the coffee granules and cream. Above the smell of coffee and over-cooked cafeteria food, she could smell the distinctive soaps and disinfectants that reminded her of just where she was. Still, she paid no attention to the men, women and children, and the doctors and nurses that surrounded her at the other tables.

It seemed like the events of the night past wouldn't stop playing out in her mind, and the truth was, _they wouldn't_. Emily had gone home with Fred and Charlie, while Sully, Davis, Bosco and others were being checked out by the doctors in the emergency department for shock after the attack on the precinct, and she knew she should've been too, but she needed to get away from all the painful reminders.

Sitting there, she thought about the last time they were all here being checked out for post-trauma stress, and other injuries, from the car that had been driven into Mikey's wake.

It'd been almost a year since that fateful day.

Eleven months, thirteen days... _she checked her watch..._ six hours, and twenty-five minutes, to be exact

The times and dates, though, made her think about the words from Romeo and Juliet. 'Parting is such sweet sorrow'. They repeated in her mind, and she huffed a small laugh at how ironic they were to her life, to her once partnership with the man who had unselfishly put her life before his own.

Of course, her mind corrected her. Not such sweet sorrow, but such _bittersweet_ sorrow.

The words played out in her mind, and she thought back to all the painful arguments between them these last fifteen years.

Soon, she stopped stirring her coffee and exhaled slowly as the swirling liquid began to slow. She could smell the coffee again. Stronger, _sweeter_. She could taste the creamy texture, and her mouth watered.

"_...Mrs Yokas..."_

Staring at the coffee as it stilled, she blinked and realized she'd been sitting there, staring at her coffee almost forty minutes now.

"Mrs Yokas?"

Again she blinked, this time lifting her head slowly to look at the young man standing before her. It took her a moment, when she recognized him. He was dressed in operating scrubs, and she didn't need to hear his words; she could read the expression he wore plainly enough, like the words on a page.

"We did everything we could."

She winced, swallowed hard hearing his words, and then took in a shallow breath as she continued to stare at him, _wordlessly_.

The young doctor, no more than twenty-seven years of age, pulled out the chair at her right, and sat solemnly beside her. "He arrested three times during surgery. Unfortunately, the damage to his heart was beyond repair."

She looked away from him, stared down at her cold coffee. "Did he...suffer?"

She didn't see him, but he shook his head. "No, Mrs Yokas. Your husband didn't suffer."

Reaching out, she begun stirring the stirstick again, and laughed. "Of course he didn't," she murmured, immediately closing her eyes at the hurtful words that left her mouth.

He was dead. Thirty-six years of age, and Fred was dead.

It hurt her heart, made her mind and body feel weighted in a way she had never felt before.

Eyes prickling with tears, she stared at the young doctor again. Again, she asked, "Did he suffer?" The young doctor merely shook his head, and she sighed, closing her eyes and wishing this were all a dream.


	2. Chapter One

**Title: **Deus Ex Machina 2/?  
**Authors: **Demelza & Jill  
**Disclaimer: **Third Watch and its characters do not belong to us, they belong to the people at NBC, WB, and all its other owners. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission. _Without Prejudice.  
_**Characters: **Bosco, Faith, Whole Cast  
**Genre:** AU, Angst, Romance  
**Rating: **O15  
**Warnings: **Character death, some violence, sexual references, offensive language.  
**Summary: **She stirred the plastic stirstick in circular motion, eyes fixated on the swirl of the coffee granules and cream.  
**Dedication:** This is being written for our very dear friend, Amy (BoscoRox), whom we doth love very, very much :)

**\/**

_**Chapter One**_

She was walking the long corridor of the hospital. Emily and Charlie were back at the apartment with Fred's parents, and she had no idea how she was going to break the news. The young doctor had asked if she wanted to say goodbye, but she couldn't. She was hurt, but more than that she was angry. She was angry at him for being so damn selfish, and not thinking of his family. He had a wife, and two children that loved him dearly. What right did he have to leave them like he had? What right!?

Her mind was barraged with questions she had no immediate answers for, and she slowed her pace, taking in one shuddered breath after another as she tried to breathe through all the anger and confusion she felt inside.

Her eyes fell on a coffee dispenser just a few feet ahead of her, on the left, and she felt herself being pulled to the machine. Maybe one more cup of coffee would erase the last forty-seven hours, and she'd be able to do this day over again. _Just maybe._

She stopped when she approached the machine and put enough change into the slot for her drink. Picking out a cardboard cup, she put it in position and watched as the dispenser began filling her cup with steaming hot coffee. The smell and the sight brought fresh rage to her mind and she angry pulled the cup out, tossed it across at the wall behind her.

People passing by stared at her, and she walked again. She knew she had to go home, but she didn't want to, _not just yet_. But she couldn't stay here; she had to get the hell out of here.

\/

It was less than a week later, and they had buried Fred today. Emily and Charlie took it the hardest, as well as Fred's parents. Faith had remained silent and strong, and while friends had commended her for being so strong for her children, the honest truth was she was too angry to cry. Too angry at Fred to feel sorry for _him_.

Time had come at the funeral service for Fred's mother to speak, and sitting there on the sofa, she laughed remembering the ill-spoken words that had come from the older woman's lips.

Her son was loving, she'd said. A kind and often generous man. One who was always more than willing to give to strangers, even if it meant giving them the shirt off his back.

She laughed, and then she cried. She wasn't crying because she was sad, or because they were right...she cried because it was such a load of crap. Maybe Fred was loving, _some of the time_, but nothing about him was kind and 'often generous'.

As much as she hated him for what he'd done, though, she hadn't let any unkind words fall free. She'd stood before the congregation, told them how he'd have been surprised so many people had come to say goodbye when, as he'd have said, he was 'just Fred'. They'd laughed tearfully, and she'd gone on to tell them what a loving father and good husband he'd been. She'd chocked out the last part, crying even more when she'd explained how supportive and caring he was.

What did it hurt for her to say what she didn't believe to those that loved him unconditionally?

Sighing, she lifted her left leg and set her barefoot atop the coffee table.

What _hurt her_ was seeing her children crying, and not being able to tell them all the right words to make the pain they felt go away. And, what hurt her was not having someone there who knew the right words to make _her _pain go away, even if half of them would have been the wrong words anyway.

It was close to midnight now, and everyone had since left. Emily and Charlie were sound asleep in the master bedroom – they'd wanted to 'sleep where daddy slept', and she'd told them she was sure he'd have wanted them to – and she hadn't stopped staring at the reflection of the kitchen in the television set.

Her eyes just starting to drift shut, her mind finally empty of all thought, there was a sudden rapping at the door. Her eyes shot open, and she turned her head sharply, staring across at the darkened corner of the room.

Again, the knocking occurred.

Pushing herself to her feet, she moved to the door. "Who is it?" she asked, her voice low, hand lingering near the safety chain.

"It's me, Faith. It's Bosco."

Her hand dropped to her side, and she sighed heavily. "Go home, Boz," she said, a little angrier than she had meant to.

"Open the door, please, Faith."

Swallowing, she unlatched the chain, turned the deadbolt and opened the door. He stood before her, dressed in jeans and a sweat-drenched red t-shirt. He was unshaven, his hair was a mess, and he looked like shit.

"What do you want, Bosco?" she asked, not moving to let him inside.

"I wanted to explain about why I wasn't there today."

The breath caught in her throat, when she sharply exhaled. "I really don't care why you weren't."

"Faith..." he pleaded.

"You made a promise to Charlie, Bosco."

"I know, and I would have been there for him, _for you_, but something came up. Something big."

"He's _ten_." Her voice was bitter, unfriendly.

"My brother was in trouble, Faith," he said, his breathing growing a little rapid. "I wanted to be there. I know I promised, but the son of a bitch...he was released on technicalities from when I arrested him, and soon as he was out the bastard got himself beat up, and my Ma..."

He stopped, took in a breath and slowly let it out. "I meant to be there, Faith. You've gotta believe that."

Hurting beyond words, Faith looked away from him as she shook her head. "It's like I thought," she murmured.

He blinked, confused. "What...is...?"

"I don't matter." She shifted her gaze, stared at him. "My kids _don't matter_. Not to you. You're asked to do one thing, and then you promise you'll do another..."

"Faith...!"

"You're more than useless, Bosco. _You're a waste of breath._"

He winced, bit the inside of his mouth to stop from telling her how much her words hurt him.

"And...I want you to leave."

No more words, she pushed the door shut on him. Her chest feeling like it was closing in, she turned and rushed down the corridor.

Loud sobs began to overwhelm her, and Faith stepped into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She stepped backward against it, tears rushing down her cheeks, and then slid to the floor as more sobs began to escape, one after another.

She was wrong. She _was_ hurting. She was hurting..._but for all the wrong reasons_.


End file.
